Radio and television mirror (Jan-June 1942)

Record Details:

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lalniB^^^^/"^ WHEN HUBBY BROUGHT HOME 'bRDINARY TISSUeS* iNsreAO oF/ccseA/ex, [ N\(\D6 HIM MARCH RI^HT BACK. WHEN I SEND HIM F09.KLe6NeX, \ MEAN KcecNexi { from a letter hy J.W.. Coflfeyville. Kans.) (SrK/MepoesNorPAY/ I AHA/Ays Keep KCeeNBX IN /v^y CAR ro WIPE THE CHICOREN'S STICKy FIN6eR6, CLEAN THE WIND SHieiO, AND 5HIN6 THE TRIM 1 (Jrom a letter hy O. C. G.. Springfield. Mass.) (■A^Trade Mark Reg. U. S. Pat. Off.) Stalnproof! Waterproof! Women buy on sljiht! Many gorReous patterns! Looks expensive, Ions wearing, low priced! No washing or ironing. Wipe clean with damp flotlil Fast xeiler. Big commissions. Also romplete big-profit line drcsM's. Hhltts. hose, lingerie. GET FREE SAMPLES !<,-°;;;i;ir,''.nrf!?r'=. nlBhed. Complete dress line included FUKE. Send no money. Write today! B. J MELVILLE CO., Dept. 3138. Cincinnati, Ohio FREE ENLARGEMENT Just to get acquainted with new customers, we will beautifully enlarge one snapshot print or negative, photo or picture to 8x10 inches — FREE — if you enclose this ad with 10c for handling and return mailing. Information on hand tinting in natural colors sent immediately. Your original returned with your free enlargement. p^T-ri \\, tnHav. Geppert Studios, Dept. 1146, Des Moines, Iowa PIHfHMEtORfl SWEETHEART BLiue UUcdt^ An exquisitely youthful fragrance that's jweet QS Loves first kiss . . . BLUE WALTZ weaves the magic of the garden's loveliest blossoms into a fragile, haunting perfume that invites romonce. A touch on your hair, your throot, your wrists end you're Cupid's darling! 10< ATALLS&IOf STORES . >/ . i i ■ Tn 9 •*.tV .iff' 1 1 // A darling now ■■ Swoothi'Oft Box wi»hB|yo Wolfz *t f T'^ 54 seemed an eternity before the headlights of a car broke the slightly foggy darkness. "Good night, precious," a rich, young voice whispered tensely. There ■was a long silence and Martha's heart sank. Then a car door opened and closed. "Tennis at eleven, beautiful!" "Good night, Steve," Lucy said and, somehow, it sounded like a song. Lucy floated up the walk. When she stepped into the faint light from the doorway, she seemed to be shining with a light all her own. Her eyes were starry and looking far away into a world into which Martha could not follow her. She didn't seem surprised to find her mother waiting up for her. She threw herself into Martha's lap and hugged her furiously. "Oh," she sighed in that same singing voice, "it's been such a wonderful evening. Mother, I'm so happy!" Martha knew she couldn't say anything then. She would have to wait for a more appropriate time, a time when Lucy wasn't intoxicated with excitement and success. Only there was no such time, not in all the fortnight that followed. Lucy seemed to be wound up like a top, going, going, going, all the time. The very air seemed to have the effect of champagne on her. And Martha couldn't find the right way to stop her, warn her. TTHEN, one evening two weeks after -■ the Charity Ball, Lucy went to a Yacht Club dance with Steve — and — returned alone. Martha had been reading and she looked up, startled, when she heard the door close. Lucy was leaning against the door, slumped against it, as if she couldn't stand alone. "Mother," she said, very softly, with a great deal of effort. "I want to go home. Right away." Suddenly, she crumpled to the floor, covering her face with her hands and sobbing wildly. Martha ran to her and sat down beside her. She held her close in her arms, cradling the shuddering girl like a baby. "Oh, Mother!" Lucy cried desperately. "I love him so much. I thought he loved me. He said he did." A lot of it was incoherent, but Martha pieced it together. "There had been another girl, before Lucy — a girl with whom Steve had quarreled. But tonight she had beckoned him back, and he had forgotten all about Lucy, leaving her to the humiliating realization that she had always been second best with him, no more. The next morning, Lucy was still firm about leaving Old Port and, while Martha didn't entirely approve of her running away, she was a little glad to get Lucy away from any chance of making up with Steve. Martha wanted to go home, too, but William Moore assured her that her case was bound to get on the calendar soon and she would just have to come right back again. So, Lucy got on the train alone, a sad, subdued Lucy, who — Martha noticed — couldn't keep her eyes from scanning the people on the platform, looking for someone, looking for Steve, hoping up to the last minute. Every day, Martha looked forward to hearing that her case was coming up and she could go home. She was a little restless with waiting and strangely uneasy, without quite knowing why. "The letters she got from home were all cheerful, except Lucy's, who seemed to strain too hard RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR 1^.